In Those Days
by Carth Onasi
Summary: No idea, where this is going. It's after the war, Snape survived and will turn up later(fourth chapter). Harry is struggling with his life after the war. Even though I didn't plan to, this story now envolves self harm, causing the rating(Safety!). Please give it a try, and tell me if it was worth it!
1. Chapter 1

**In Those Days**

Okay guys...I have to warn you, I'm not really sure yet, where this story is going. I just discovered a song today: „Tired Pony – All The Things All At Once" and it kind of inspired me to this, so after an hour I had this done. There is already a second chapter, but it's shorter and still not a real „start" in the story. I will upload it soon, right now I'm just too tired.  
(Honestly guys, listen to the song, it's so damn great! Just gave me this special feeling, that led to this fanfiction. If you know the song you will recognize elements of the song in my fic - the wings, kings, lions and all the flying etc.)  
But a few things I can already tell you: Snape is still alive, and he will appear in the second or third chapter. There will certainly develop a relationship between them, but right know I don't know if it's only friendship or love, and how deep it will be. We'll see.  
Last thing: I'm german so please expect a few mistakes.  
Oh, and of course I love comments! Really, let me know what you think, if there were any important mistakes and so on.

Chapter 1

In those days, they were kings.  
Not as Snape had imagined all the time. Not because they were the famous Gryffindor trio. And certainly not because they thought they were some kind of special and outstanding because of all their adventures.  
They were kings, because they were free. They could decide for themselves who they want to spend the afternoon with, or they could just go outside and let the sun warm their faces. Or just admire the nature around the castle. Especially in autumn Harry had loved being in Hogwarts. There were so many colours, he could never take his eyes from his surroundings.

In those days they were lions, kings because they had control over their lives. They could even fly if they wanted to. Their spirits would touch the Astronomy Tower and stand on its roof and just take in the fact that they were kings. Not of this place or the people around, but kings of their own lives.

It ended with Cedric.

The moment he died their wings vanished and their crowns were taken from them and smashed to the ground, shattering.  
When Harry realized that Cedric was truly and unchangeable dead, he lost his freedom. It was as if somebody tied Cedrics lifeless, pale body to Harrys feet and now he couldn't take one step without feeling Cedrics weight dragging him down to the ground.  
The following years even more people died because of Voldemorts stupid longing for power.  
Every person that died joined Cedrics body, sometimes he could even feel their eyes staring at him, not accusingly but they were waiting. If he only knew what for.

He had regained a pair of wings a few months after Cedrics death, but they were not his. They were useless, he couldn't fly, not even a bit. He couldn't let his spirit wander through Hogwarts and the grounds. The only thing he could do with these wings was showing them around. A demonstration of freedom, a trick for the others to believe in their boy-who-lived.  
But his life was no longer his. The control over it was taken from him just like the wings and his crown.

They weren't lions anymore, they were kittens.

He thought it would change after the war. He hoped he would get his crown back and his wings but that didn't happen. And all the dead bodies tied to his feet, they were still there. And their unblinking eyes still stared at him from time to time. The thought that they were waiting for him to do something was still inside of his head but he had no clue what they wanted. He had thought, dared to hope even, that they would vanish with Voldemort, that after he revenged them they were free. But they weren't and he still could feel them dragging him down with every step he tried to take. After the war, there were so many: Dumbledore, Sirius, Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby... And all the bodies without faces, the people he didn't know. But they still died in the war and they still were tied to his feet.

And one day he could feel the presence of Ginny at his feet. She wasn't dead, he knew that, but all those bodies tied to him hindered him from running to her, into her arms, after the war. All he could manage were little steps towards her but she was too far away and he was just too slow. So some day she joined all the other people tied to him.  
A few days after Ginny joined them he gave up. He gave in to the constant weight trying to drag him down, so he sat. He sat down with them, in their middle, and just watched them.  
Now that he was closer, he could see them more clearly. Everyone of them held something – a little piece of his crown or just a feather of his wings.  
It was then that he decided that the bodies need to go away. He wanted his crown back and his wings and he wanted to be able to meet Hermione and Ron and think of all of them as lions. But the problem was, he didn't know how. He couldn't reach them and all the feathers and pieces of his crown they were holding inside of their hands. It was pointless.

So he gave up again, and stood up. He pulled himself together and told himself that he just had to get used to the weight. He could do it, he was strong after all. He just had to keep walking and perhaps he would get faster and then, when it was enough, maybe he even could reach another human being again. Not Ginny, she was tied to his feet after all, but maybe just another human being.


	2. Chapter 2

So here it is, the second chapter. I think the story will "start" next chapter, as Harry searches for Snape, and maybe already finds him. I'm not sure yet as it's not yet written. So please be patient, it could take a while, because I'm starting to work in a kindergarten tomorow and there is still so much paper work to do. But I will try to write it as soon as I get the right idea!  
A big thank you to that one guest who wrote me a review, I really appreciate it! And this organization really is great, even though I'm not able to support it as I live in Germany. But I honestly hope that it will expand in other countries, because I think it is very important to let people know about this issues, and that they're not some kind of freaky!

Chapter 2

He couldn't.

He thought he could but the more he tried to run or just walk towards another human being, the more they slipped away. In the beginning he thought he had made it, that he reached someone again. But he was mistaken and so more bodies were added to his own army tied to his feet.

So he was alone again and their weight still lured him down to the ground. But he stood still.  
He stopped moving, taking steps so he could keep standing and not sink to the ground another time.

He, of course, wasn't entirely alone with them, far away he could see Ron and his family, Hermione and Neville. But they were so far away and he couldn't walk anymore. And with every day the distance between Harry and them grew bigger and they no longer turned their faces to him, but their backs.

So he just stood there and concentrated on the important things: breathing, eating, sleeping and getting up in the morning so he wouldn't lose his job. These things were all he could do without landing on the ground.

But someday a thought struck him: One body had managed to escape from being chained to his feet: Severus Snape.  
While Harry thought that Snape was dead, his body was there, with all the other ones, but the moment he heard that Snape survived, his body vanished. Just as if it was never there, or never meant to be there.

So if Snape escaped, there was only one thing for Harry to do, wasn't there?


	3. Chapter 3

Okay guys. I know it took me very long, but I finally made it. I have to admit that Snape still did not appear in this chapter, but in the next one! And it's already written and I'm going to post it right after this one.  
I would really love to hear your opinion, if you're reading this!

**IMPORTANT: **There are some changes: WARNING FOR SELF HARM!  
If this does affect you in any way, please stop reading! It is very detailed!  
Even though self harm is an important thing in my life, I never thought I would include it in this story...But it just happened, so...

Ah, and I just wanted to remind you, that I'm german and very sorry for any mistakes in my story!

**Chapter 3**

Deciding that he should visit Snape was more easy than actually doing it. The first problem was a very practical one: Where is Snape?  
But he knew it would not be hard to find his former potions professor. Snape wasn't teaching anymore but he could always ask McGonagall, who now was headmistress of Hogwarts, about Snapes whereabouts.  
McGonagall and Harry would still contact eachother from time to time and he knew that even though McGonagall and Snape never made the impression to like eachother they were friends. Even if she wouldn't know where exactly Snape was she would be able to help him on his search.  
So his first problem actually wasn't a problem – or at least it was easy to solve.

The second problem about visiting Snape was something entirely different: What should he do, after he found Snape? What was his reason, after all? He didn't know it, he just had the feeling that it would clear things up for him. But Snape would want to know a reason for Harry visiting, after all their relationship was non-existent.  
So the days passed and Harry still didn't do anything except existing, working, eating. Not that he was eating very much, his appetite got smaller with every day.  
Ron and Hermione each wrote a letter a few days before, he assumed they have been talking about him. He had answered, he even was kind of proud of himself that he was able to keep his mind focused long enough to write two letters.  
His job wasn't really keeping him from thinking and overthinking everything. It was only a little job in a shop in muggle London. Life was easier around muggles. They would not stare at him all the time. All he had to do to get the job was faking a few documents. He even rented a litle flat in London, because he didn't want to live in Sirius old house. After all he was already thinking about him nearly every day, so why choose to live in his birth house?  
But there were days on which he didn't think at all, not even about Sirius. Afterwards he named them „Days without thinking" in his head. They seemed to pass in a blur and sometimes he wasn't even able to remember everything that had happened during the day.

One of those blury days brought a soution for Harry, or at least something he thought of as a solution.

He was at home, trying not to let his mind wander too much and was biting his thumb in an attempt to keep his mind focused. As he realised what he was doing, he realised another thing: He wanted to see it. He wasn't biting down hard, after all it was only unconsciously in the beginning. But he wanted it to leave a mark. He wanted to be able to see what he had accomplished. So he tried to bite down harder, but his body was betraying him. The pain always made him stop. It was ridiculous, he thought. After all he had gone through much worse injuries in his life, this little bite was nothing against them.  
It might not have been working the way he wanted, but he was beginning to feel excited.  
There had to be another way, so he looked at his surroundings searching for something to harm himself. As he was in his kitchen, he soon saw the drawer with the cutlery. His excitment got even bigger, he walked over to it, opened it and took out one of the knives he used for cutting fruits. Growing up in a muggle environment without magic still influenced his life. The knife wasn't big, but he knew it was sharp as he always kept his belongings in a good shape. Just something Petunia taught him.  
He contemplated where to use the knife. Doing it on his hands was not a good idea, everyone would be able to see it and he wouldn't be able to use his hands properly. His gaze wandered from his left hand to his left forearm and a grin spread across his lips. It was perfect. Wounds wouldn't annoy him there. Plus it was autumn and already cold, so everyone was wearing long sleeves.  
So he put the knife on the outside of his left forearm and took a deep breath. He was so nervous he couldn't even think properly. But he pressed the knife down, just a little bit, his instincts trying to hinder him from harming himself. Slowly dragging the knife across his arm he watched his skin, eager to see something.  
But he didn't feel pain and he didn't see any mark or blood. Disappointed he put the knife on the kitchentable. After all the things he did in his life, all those risky stunts with Ron, playing Quidditch, fighting others, hurting others and even killing others he couldn't believe that he wasn't able to cut his skin, not even a little bit.  
Determined he picked the knife back up, dragged it across his skin again. This time, he could feel a little pain. Nothing more than breaking the skin just a little bit. Excited, his eyes stared at his arm, searching for something that shouldn't be there, a sign that he was able to do this. A thin line appeared, but he still was disappointed. There was no blood, his skin was just a little bit irritated. He could feel anger building up in his stomach. The anger was directed towards himself, towards the fact that he wasn't able to remain in control of his life, towards the fact that he wasn't even able to harm himself properly.  
The anger deformed his face, made him raise the knife and made his arm come down fast, dragging the blade of the knife through his skin again, this time with more power, strength and speed. Not just one time, but three times. After the third time, he stopped. His heart was beating fast and he stared at his left forearm. This time, he could see his skin gaping open. Blood was bubbling up on some points in the cuts, forming drops that soon joined others, forming bigger drops that slowly began moving over his skin towards the ground and finally falling down to it.

He was disgusted. That was not how he had planned it to be. All he wanted was a mark, something he could see, something to hold on to. But he guessed he would have his mark, he just had to stop the bleeding. So he put a few paper towels onto it and also cleared up the few blood drops on the ground. After the blood had dried, he looked at his wounds again. They weren't very deep and would heal without help, even though scars would remain.

Suddenly he was proud. It was strange, but he was kind of proud of these three cuts on his arm.

He put the knife away and continued with his day, his steps a little bit lighter than before.

The following days his thoughts were about harming himself. He didn't do it again immediatly, but it was something new and exciting. Only a few times he thought about visiting Snape.


	4. Chapter 4

As I promised:

**Chapter**** 4**

Days, weeks, and finally months passed and the cutting helped him through the days.  
He got better at it, and he was strangely proud of that. But even though he was proud, he was still hiding the cuts and scars.  
He wasn't even using knives anymore but razorblades and shards of glass.  
The cutting was consuming his thoughts, it became more important with every day that passed. But in his opinion, it was helping him a lot. He re-established his friendships with Ron, Hermione and Neville. From time to time those four could be seen sitting together in a muggle bar, talking and laughing a lot.  
Even though Harry enjoyed these evenings with his friends, he always wore long sleeves and took care that his arms wouldn't show underneath them.  
"Project Snape" was still in his mind, but every time he thought about it, he delayed it again.

In Harrys opinion he was getting along in his life, but his friends were worried about him. He was still behaving odd from time to time and he still didn't do anything about his future. Every time they asked him about it, he answered that he had his job in the muggle shop after all. But they knew that Harry was not the person to sit for the rest of his life, selling some every day life items to some random muggles.

That was exactly what Harry was doing, scanning items people want to buy, when he heard a familiar voice ask in a confused tone "Potter?",  
His head snapped up at the sound of the voice of his former potions professor. His hands stopped scanning the items as he was only able to stare in astonishment at the man in front of him.  
Finally being able to say something after a few seconds of confusion and silence he asked "Snape? What...What are you doing here?".  
The other man was regaining his posture again, staring mockingly down at Harry. "Well... Surprisingly I am here to purchase a few things. If you kindly would continue...?", his voice trailed off as he stared impatiently at Harry, who still sat unmovingly. "Of course.", Harry mumbled as response and continued with his work.  
After Snape had payed for his puchase and turned around to leave, Harry took a deep breath and wished him a good evening. Snape stopped for a moment, slightly turning his head and quietly responded with "Likewise.". Then he went out of the door and left Harry staring at his back in confusion.

That evening, at home, Harry wasn't in a good mood. He was thinking too much, about Snape, about his plan to visit him, about all the other things he could have said instead of wishing him a good evening and if Snape would come into the shop more often.

But Snape wasn't having a calm evening, too. He also was thinking about the other man and their meeting.  
Something was odd about Potters eyes, the seemed to scream.  
And why was he even working in a shop in muggle London? For Snape, it was easier to buy his food there after he moved flat. But why would Potter choose to work there, instead of working in the wizarding world? At least his life there should be easier, as he was well known there and most likely able to get any job he wanted without having the necessary qualifications.  
As Snape was going to bed he thought that maybe he was going to find out. But why would he even be interested?


End file.
